Conditioning

Push me. Let fall
your anger upon
these shoulders.
Speak to me
in whispers, with pity,
undetected, in your voice.
Shout, at me, the troubles
weighing you down, with
weakness, too loud
to be understood.
I will thank you.
I can tolerate anything.
I stay in formation,
arm locked, grip tight,
fingers pale—
never more alive.
I need not push back,
for the weight of
the world is left wanting—
it can deflate no spirit
that remembers to breathe,
break no bones that injure not
themselves. So, lean—
and bring your friends—
for I will tolerate it,
simply to prove that
the fortress will hold,
so that I know, when
I decide to push back,
nothing can withstand me.

27 Notes/ Hide

  1. sanddollarhearts reblogged this from raisethecurve
  2. myphantomlimbs said: I like this very much : )
  3. contrarycate reblogged this from raisethecurve
  4. contrarycate said: I really love this
  5. raisethecurve posted this